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"Rain" by swimchick1313

Category: Book: 1st Chapter

Tags: fiction, tragedy, death, grief, introduction, fantasy

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A knock on the door. One, two, three seemingly innocent knocks. But she knew better. The only two people that ever used that door were her and her father, and neither would knock before entering.  She knew something was wrong. He should have been home long ago; after all, it’s hard to fell trees in the dark. So she had waited, nose pressed up against the glass, peering in vain into the darkness, hoping to see his tall form emerge. It hadn’t. Instead, just as the sun came into view over the surrounding mountains, a horse approached. Riding it was not her father- but her father’s best friend and fellow logger. She had met him on the few visits she had made to the mill. He was normally a happy fellow, with chubby cheeks that seemed to erase many of his years. Today, however, he looked more aged than ever before. After tying his horse to the post, he walked slowly to the door. As he neared it and raised his hand to knock, he lost his courage, and let the hand drop. A quiet clearing of the throat, then he quickly rapped on the door.

The three knocks startled her, after a night of hearing only the wind and small animals rustling nearby. She waited a moment, so as to seem that she had been elsewhere in the little house, and not watching him through the front window. She made her three necessary steps last as long as possible, delaying answering those ominous knocks. For as long as she could remember, it had just been her and her father living there. Yes, there had once been a mother in the family too, but she had left long ago. With just the two of them, her father had been careful about leaving her alone. On days he worked, he was always back before night set in. She could not remember one time he had ever been late. And now, with these thoughts racing through her head, she opened the door. The man was standing there nervously, twisting his hat around and around in his hands. Not a good sign.

“Emily,” he opened, but the voice that came out was too high-pitched, too anxious sounding. He cleared his throat, and began again. “Emily, there has been an accident.” Her stomach dropped despite her hours of attempted preparation. “It’s your father.”

“Wha-What happened?” she managed to stammer out.

His response came out jumbled, as if he had much to say but no idea how to say it. “A tree… There’s normally four of us, but Dawson, well Dawson got sick…Not that we blame him, of course it’s not his fault…We shouldn’t have continued with just three… The tree… Foolish really, how stupid!...It didn’t fall the way we expected…The tree…Stephan, er, your father, he was in the way…He tried to move, but wasn’t fast enough…The tree…It…It crushed him.” He broke off there, unsure of how to continue.

“But he’s with Doc right? He can still get better? Right?” He didn’t even need to answer. The resigned look in his eyes dashed that last hope as soon as she said it. “He’s not getting better, is he?”

“No, Emily, I’m sorry.” She tried not to cry, not in front of this man she barely knew, but those traitorous eyes welled up anyway. “We had to go for help. With only two men, and that big of a redwood, it wouldn’t budge. We grabbed Doc on the way, but by the time we got there, he was long gone. I’m so sorry.”

He reached out as if to hug her, but she backed away. “No, no there has to be a mistake. He can’t be d-” Just thinking that last word turned her quiet weeping into full-blown sobbing. Her only family, her father, the man who meant more to her than anything else in the world…she would never again get to hug him or sit in his lap. She shouldn’t have protested the last time he picked her up and rubbed his scratchy stubble against her smooth cheek. She would give anything to have him do it one more time…

The man was speaking again. “-thought you could stay with us for a few days, just ‘til we get things sorted out. Can’t have you staying here alone!” He chuckled, an odd sound in the mournful atmosphere. The world was crashing down around her, and he still managed to laugh. No, it would not do to go home with this man, no matter how good of a friend he was to her father. She needed to be by herself for a while, needed some time to think. So she did the only thing she could.

She ran.

Past the man, the messenger of that horrid news, and out of the house. Past the fence she had helped her father put in. Past the little stream where they often fished together. Farther and farther she ran, tears streaming down her face and choked sobs escaping from her throat. He was gone, just like that. Finally her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the mossy ground. She wished to be swallowed up into the heavens, anything to be with him again. While the sky did not swallow her up, it did grow dark and cloudy. This pleased her, for it better suited her mood than the formerly sunny morning. A single raindrop plopped onto the bare skin of her nose, and, as if on cue, rain began to pour from above. The drops made a soft comforting sound as they fell through the pine needles. The world was crying with her.




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Category Name: My Thoughts

I did not enjoy the chapter. The chapter was okay. I really enjoyed the chapter.

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Category Name: Character Development

The characters were not credible, interesting or unique. I don’t care about or understand the characters because they were poorly developed. The characters where somewhat credible, interesting and unique. I partially understand their thoughts, feelings, and actions. I somewhat connected with and care about the characters. The characters where credible, interesting and unique. I thoroughly understand their thoughts, feelings and actions. I felt connected with and started to care about the characters.

This is act of bringing a character to life on the page. It is a combination of the author’s description of the character and the character’s dialog, action, and thoughts. Though all characters should be believable, the protagonist and antagonist are usually the most developed characters.

Category Name: The Beginning

The chapter did not introduce a problem. I really don’t want to read the next chapter. The chapter introduces a problem for the protagonist, but I don’t know why it’s important and/or it does not feel like an immediate resolution is needed. I might read the next chapter. The chapter introduced an immediate and important problem for the protagonist. I really want to know what happens in the next chapter.

The first chapter, especially the first sentence, needs to pull a reader into the story and make them crave more.

Category Name: Setting

I don’t know when or where this chapter takes place. The setting was inadequately described or inappropriately used. I know when and where the chapter takes place but I can only vaguely picture it in my mind. The setting did not add to or distract from the chapter. I know when and where the chapter takes place. The setting enhanced the chapter and helped me better understand the characters or plot.

The setting is where a story takes place. The choice of setting and its description helps the story come alive in the mind of the reader. Appropriate setting contributes to the plot and mood of the story.

Category Name: Mechanics

The story contained so many mechanical errors that it was hard to follow the plot or understand certain sentences or paragraphs. Occasional mechanical errors were distracting, but these errors did not inhibit me from being able to understand the plot or connect with characters in the story. I rarely if ever noticed mechanical errors. As far as I could tell, the writing was clear and correct.

Mechanics includes sentence structure, verb agreement, grammar, spelling, voice, punctuation and aspects of basic style.

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Category Name: Dialog

The dialog caused more confusion than clarification about the characters. It was almost impossible to follow. Some of the dialog helped me learn about the characters and revealed new facets of their personalities. I could follow the dialog when paying close attention. The dialog helped me learn about the characters and revealed new facets of their personalities. The dialog flowed well and was easy to follow.

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Click on a paragraph or highlight text from the paragraph to provide inline comments. While detailed grammar correction is welcome, the purpose of inline commenting is to spark the author's creativity. This is best done by expressing feelings, questions, and concerns you have about the story while you are reading.

1. A knock on the door. One, two, three seemingly innocent knocks. But she knew better. The only two people that ever used that door were her and her father, and neither would knock before entering.  She knew something was wrong. He should have been home long ago; after all, it’s hard to fell trees in the dark. So she had waited, nose pressed up against the glass, peering in vain into the darkness, hoping to see his tall form emerge. It hadn’t. Instead, just as the sun came into view over the surrounding mountains, a horse approached. Riding it was not her father- but her father’s best friend and fellow logger. She had met him on the few visits she had made to the mill. He was normally a happy fellow, with chubby cheeks that seemed to erase many of his years. Today, however, he looked more aged than ever before. After tying his horse to the post, he walked slowly to the door. As he neared it and raised his hand to knock, he lost his courage, and let the hand drop. A quiet clearing of the throat, then he quickly rapped on the door.

2. The three knocks startled her, after a night of hearing only the wind and small animals rustling nearby. She waited a moment, so as to seem that she had been elsewhere in the little house, and not watching him through the front window. She made her three necessary steps last as long as possible, delaying answering those ominous knocks. For as long as she could remember, it had just been her and her father living there. Yes, there had once been a mother in the family too, but she had left long ago. With just the two of them, her father had been careful about leaving her alone. On days he worked, he was always back before night set in. She could not remember one time he had ever been late. And now, with these thoughts racing through her head, she opened the door. The man was standing there nervously, twisting his hat around and around in his hands. Not a good sign.

3. “Emily,” he opened, but the voice that came out was too high-pitched, too anxious sounding. He cleared his throat, and began again. “Emily, there has been an accident.” Her stomach dropped despite her hours of attempted preparation. “It’s your father.”

4. “Wha-What happened?” she managed to stammer out.

5. His response came out jumbled, as if he had much to say but no idea how to say it. “A tree… There’s normally four of us, but Dawson, well Dawson got sick…Not that we blame him, of course it’s not his fault…We shouldn’t have continued with just three… The tree… Foolish really, how stupid!...It didn’t fall the way we expected…The tree…Stephan, er, your father, he was in the way…He tried to move, but wasn’t fast enough…The tree…It…It crushed him.” He broke off there, unsure of how to continue.

6. “But he’s with Doc right? He can still get better? Right?” He didn’t even need to answer. The resigned look in his eyes dashed that last hope as soon as she said it. “He’s not getting better, is he?”

7. “No, Emily, I’m sorry.” She tried not to cry, not in front of this man she barely knew, but those traitorous eyes welled up anyway. “We had to go for help. With only two men, and that big of a redwood, it wouldn’t budge. We grabbed Doc on the way, but by the time we got there, he was long gone. I’m so sorry.”

8. He reached out as if to hug her, but she backed away. “No, no there has to be a mistake. He can’t be d-” Just thinking that last word turned her quiet weeping into full-blown sobbing. Her only family, her father, the man who meant more to her than anything else in the world…she would never again get to hug him or sit in his lap. She shouldn’t have protested the last time he picked her up and rubbed his scratchy stubble against her smooth cheek. She would give anything to have him do it one more time…

9. The man was speaking again. “-thought you could stay with us for a few days, just ‘til we get things sorted out. Can’t have you staying here alone!” He chuckled, an odd sound in the mournful atmosphere. The world was crashing down around her, and he still managed to laugh. No, it would not do to go home with this man, no matter how good of a friend he was to her father. She needed to be by herself for a while, needed some time to think. So she did the only thing she could.

10. She ran.

11. Past the man, the messenger of that horrid news, and out of the house. Past the fence she had helped her father put in. Past the little stream where they often fished together. Farther and farther she ran, tears streaming down her face and choked sobs escaping from her throat. He was gone, just like that. Finally her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the mossy ground. She wished to be swallowed up into the heavens, anything to be with him again. While the sky did not swallow her up, it did grow dark and cloudy. This pleased her, for it better suited her mood than the formerly sunny morning. A single raindrop plopped onto the bare skin of her nose, and, as if on cue, rain began to pour from above. The drops made a soft comforting sound as they fell through the pine needles. The world was crying with her.

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